Downhill
by fromadustycorner
Summary: SPOILER ALERT -CoLS timeline, alternative ending- In the epilogue, what if the vampire that Alec found was an unknown character who isn't exactly in good terms with Magnus Bane?
1. Chapter 1

**Plot**: What if the vampire that killed Camille was an unknown character who isn't exactly in good terms with Magnus? What if he held a particular resentment for the warlock, hence the murder of his ex-girlfriend? And when the unknown character is found by Alec, who is physically exhausted and mentally vulnerable...

**Disclaimer**: The plot and characters of the Mortal Instruments series belong to Cassandra Clare. I own nothing.

**Warning**: slash, spoiler, alternative ending, inaccurate details

**Notes**: Err... I don't really know what I should say here. Perhaps an "enjoy reading and don't be so critical!" will do for now. So, enjoy reading and please don't be so critical! :)

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**1**

Alec scans the enclosed area with sharp, narrowed eyes, his trained gaze passing by an empty couch without much surprise. He knows Camille would not make it that easy for him. Yet despite being aware of that fact, he still came anyway. In the back of his mind, he already had an inkling that the vampire would not be here, and now that it has come to the forefront of his brain, he wondered what he expected to accomplish in this situation.

To kill her, make her pay.

But to do that, he needed to get to her first. And at the moment, he was at a loss as to how he would manage that. He had no idea how to track the vampire. He felt helpless. It was always Camille who initiated contact. And just like a lapdog he heeded at her beck and call.

It was embarrassing, looking back, how he portrayed himself as the jealous, insecure type. He sneaked behind his lover's back and desperately picked up second hand scraps of information about his past. It doesn't take a genius to see how wrong that was. He took in the words of the double-crossing vampire at heart over the man he was supposed to trust with his life. Nothing could excuse his screwed up logic.

_Nothing_.

That was plain and clear to Alec, so he would not begrudge Magnus of his initiative to break up. He'd even think that his lover – ex – was entitled to that move. _If I were an all-powerful, hundreds old warlock, I wouldn't put up with an immature brat for a lover either._

He made a mistake, and he knew it hurt Magnus in proportions he couldn't even bear to think of. But he'd be damned if he wouldn't do anything to make it up to the warlock – to make it right with Magnus.

With the sudden urge to do just that, with determination and adrenaline for a game plan, he made a turn for a way out of this miserable place in hopes of catching his warlock before the damage turns irreparable.

Only to be stopped by the sight of a well-dressed man with grey eyes and a humourless smile blocking his path.

"Blue eyes and hair the shade of night. You wouldn't happen to be Alexander Lightwood?"

**1**

Alec didn't bother express the inappropriate epithet in his mind as he wasted no second to take several strides away from the newcomer, ensuring a good distance between them before crouching into a fighting stance.

He received an amused chortle in response, which only made him more wary of the stranger. A quick assessment of the man came up with a posh coat, with not a single wrinkle, and a hat that seemed to belong in the Victorian era. Which only lead to the conclusion, if the pale complexion, sharp features, and glimmering eyes haven't given away, that this man fit the same category as Camille.

"I see you're checking me out. Do you see something you like?"

_Vampire_.

The strange man applauded all of a sudden, as if he knew exactly what Alec just learned and acted as if to mock him about it. A blinding grin, seemingly composed of razor sharp teeth, was plastered on his face.

"I can tell you're not in the mood to chat. So why don't we just cut to the chase? You and I are going to have so much fun!"

The strange man was getting stranger to Alec, what with the chirpy and hyperactive attitude. No, he would definitely not put him in the same category as Camille. He lacked the regal and intimidating air that the vampiress exudes. Maniac and psychopath fits more in the man's profile.

Which makes him all the more dangerous to the Shadowhunter.

As the man started to make his way toward Alec, each footstep echoing forebodingly in his ears, he prepared to make his first move in what he perceived to be a battle to the death.

**1**

Alec was getting frustrated. If he ever thought of Camille as anything but nice, he'd gladly retract any statement.

This vampire, not only did he possess the grace and skill of any warrior who has perhaps outlived time itself, striked with words. And they weren't very nice ones either. They were biting, they were cruel; but most of all, they were strangely personal. The strange man pointed out his flaws, his mistakes, his insecurities and his vulnerabilities. The indifference from Jace, the disappointment from his parents; they were things that Alec have pushed in the back of his mind, at some point even forget. He no longer thought about them. Or at least he didn't think about them in ways that would drown him in depression and mental hurt. He knew now they held no weight if not fueld by his insecurities and pessimism.

No one knew of them, if not for the immediate people involved. Which, surely, were a few. And definitely did not include this vampire.

Yet the pathetic side of his life flowed effortlessly out of this man's lips. As if he were a witness to Alec's weak moments. He knew what to mock, he knew where it would _hurt_.

He knew everything.

So when he started on Magnus, Alec knew he was truly at a disadvantage. And it will cost him.

**1**

Jace, he has already accepted. Robert and Maryse, he expected.

But Magnus was different.

Magnus was a fresh pang, and it had been such a long day and Alec was so tired and hurt. So in the midst of lightning-speed fists and blood curling jabs, he finally spoke his first words to the vampire.

"SHUT UP!"

Not really the most witty thing to say, but it was appropriate. Brief and straight to the point. Besides, there were some things that can only be conveyed by the suddenly added rigor and aggression in Alec's punches and jabs that no word in the English language could aptly translate.

"Who the hell do you think you are, sticking your head in my business?" he growled, knowing that he'd regret wasting his breath on word play. Though he put that in the least of his worries when a kick on the vampire's stomach and the successful punch on the jaw resulted to a hunched over vampire who just spat a bloodied tooth out of his mouth.

Alec strongly believes that it is wrong to feel pleasure from the pain of others, but he had nothing against about feeling good when it came to justice being served.

But it was too early to claim victory, he knew. His breathing was ragged and his body was definitely bruising. Compared to his foe, he may be standing upright. But he wasn't the one cackling with enthusiasm and insanity, with no indication of pain and exhaustion.

"You're out of your mind," Alec muttered in between breaths as he prepared his stance for another round. The vampire finally looked up, a ravenous hunger in his eyes when he eyed the Nephilim.

"I think I'm actually liking you, Alexander. It's too bad Magnus got to you first. And such a waste..." the monster trailed off, licking his bottom lip, as if he had been salivating at the sight of a delicious meal. Before Alec could make out anything of what the vampire had said, the vampire turned all serious and menacing. Which caught Alec by surprise.

"You're looking for Camille Belcourt, weren't you?"

The cracking sound of a snap that broke into the stillness of the night was all the warning that Alec got, before he was blinded by the sudden surge of light in the room. But with quick Shadowhunter reflexes, he was able to adjust instantly.

And somehow wished he hadn't.

There, in plain sight, was Camille Belcourt. Lying on the ground, unmoving. Her face, barely recognizable. Her body, resembling a paper that didn't stand a chance against a shredder. Only her lucious blonde hair that pooled over her bloodied form gave her identity away.

"Guess what," the vampire murmured, quiet, but rang way too loudly in Alec's ears as the color drained from his face.

All of a sudden, Alec felt a presence behind him, air tingling the side of his face as the vampire whispered a death sentence in his ear.

"You are _next_."

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**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2 part 1

**Plot**: What if the vampire that killed Camille was an unknown character who isn't exactly in good terms with Magnus? What if he held a particular resentment for the warlock, hence the murder of his ex-girlfriend? And when the unknown character is found by Alec, who is physically exhausted and mentally vulnerable...

**Disclaimer**: The plot and characters of the Mortal Instruments series belong to Cassandra Clare. I own nothing.

**Warning**: slash, spoiler, alternative ending, inaccurate details, OOC

**Notes**: Here's the second chapter! I decided to cut this into two parts to maintain an average of a thousand words per chapter. Thank you to my reviewers (Brittanysway, viri24, crazycomedian, IndilwenAranionell), to those who added this to their list of favorites, and story alerts, and to the ones who contributed in the hits, and visitors count. Your positive feedback allowed for this chapter to finish writing itself! Hope this one does not disappoint. :)

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**2**

It was hours past midnight when Simon was woken up by an incessant ringing sound. With slow and groggy movements he checked his alarm, which is how he knew it was an obscene time to be awake after a long day. Despite the lack of alertness in his consciousness, he knew for a fact that he was not the type to snooze his clock at two in the morning. So when his bearings finally sunk in, he scrambled for his phone. Which, he thought in the back of his mind, would be looked down upon by his vampire buddies, if he had any, just for the utter lack of grace and agility in his movements.

Then the ringing stopped, just when Simon got a hold of his phone. Scrolling for the name of the missed call, he had to do a double take and ensure he was really awake.

It was Alec.

Which was surprising.

And rare.

And worrying, knowing the type of person he is.

So when his phone was once again brought to life by the incessant ringing, still in mid-panic, he didn't waste a second to answer it.

"Hello?" he started, but there was no immediate reply. All of a sudden, Simon thinks that the call was brought on by some accidental press of the buttons. Which happens a lot to people, and with Simon being the poor victim on the other end of the non-existent conversation. For a split-second, he thought about the disrupted sleep and the wasted effort of getting up. But then, his hearing detected the barely there sound of hitched breathing, which he cringed to think came from severe pain, and eventually his name rasped out in a way Simon would never wish to hear again from someone he knows.

This call was no accident.

**2**

It hurt to breathe. So much so that Alec tried not to go through the process of getting air in his lungs. Damn the consequences. He could be found as a corpse, see if he cared. Between being alive and being dead, Alec thinks the latter looks more appealing. Peaceful and painless.

But his brain screamed for air, despite the protests of his body, and his mind was honed to tolerate pain and survive through it. So he had no choice but to inhale, gasp at the sharp pain, hold back a scream, and exhale.

Then do the process all over again.

His arms and legs felt unattached to his mind. He could not feel them anymore. Which, in a disturbing way, worked in his favor. He did not want to feel them. It was dark, but he didn't need to see to know the damage done on his body.

He tried to keep his eyes open. He fought hard to remain conscious. But when his thoughts drifted to the events that brought him to this state, Alec thought he'd rather take a chance with death and let sleep take him a way.

**2**

_Something liquid, metallic, and _burning _entered his throat and mixed into his blood that brought him back into awareness. It felt like his insides were on fire. He couldn't breathe. It was what hell would feel like. He wanted to scream. Lash out. Cry for help. But something held him back. A thought kept him shut. He didn't know what exactly, but there was something that stopped him from uttering a single sound, something that told him that only bad things would come out of it._

_Then it was over in an instant. The next thing he knew, he stopped seeing red. His breathing was back, and it hurt and felt like the post-effects of being suffocated by smoke. There's air, but it was never enough._

_"About time!" _

_Sensing danger, his eyes instinctively moved to the source of the voice. He didn't have to look far. The source was sitting over him, holding a bloodied dagger, with the point directed to his neck, while grinning like a madman. _

_Alec hoped his eyes conveyed the loathing and rage for the deranged vampire. _

_"You up for another round? You did well in the last one, let's see if you can keep up!"_

_Before Alec could see where the dagger lands, he shuts his eyes tight and hoped for unconsciousness to take him back._

_"What a weak spirit you have!" the vampire cackled. Then the vampire's mouth formed a sneer and his eyes shone with disgust. "No wonder your warlock left you."_

**2**

Alec was startled awake. He wasn't sure by what, but he was grateful. He dreamt of maniacal grins and of endless cackles. To his horror, he could still hear echoes of the deranged sound reverberating in his ears. He took a deep, slow-painful-breath as he tried to tune it out.

When the adrenaline of his post-nightmare had died out, his eyes frantically searched into the darkness. He was no longer in the station, definitely. But that just leads to the dilemma of being in a place he didn't recognize. He could tell that he was lying on a bed, which was sort of a relief to his aching back. But its lack of familiarity to him caused a whirlpool of anxiety to form in his mind.

Then something flesh and cold made contact with his skin, startling him out of his thoughts. Funnily enough, he didn't seemed theeatened by it. And when he heard a click to his right, followed by the out pour of light, and a particular vampire's face coming into view, it all made sense.

"Simon," Alec breathed out, without thinking, relieved and beyond glad. All of a sudden, he forgot about the fact that his body was hurting and that breathing had been a difficult thing. He cringed at the sudden sting in his chest, but didn't let that get in the way of his momentary relief.

There was no immediate respond from the Daywalker. Simon just stood over Alec's lying form, unmoving and still. An upright corpse, if there was one. His face held a somber expression, and his eyes seemed unseeing as they wandered over the Nephilim's body. All traces of relief washed away from Alec's face as he followed the vampire's gaze, knowing full well what he'd see.

But knowing and seeing are two different things.

He didn't have a shirt on, so nothing blocked the sight of the long gashes and the dark bruises all over his chest and his stomach. They varied in sizes. Some seemed to have stretched endlessly on his sides and into his back. They were disgusting to look at. They were callously done, made from a carelessly handled knife and abusive fists. They were ugly. They brought back memories of a haunting time that wasn't so far away from the present. And Alec would've lost himself into them, if not for Simon finally initiating conversation.

"I found this, when I got to you..." Simon started. Glad for the distraction, Alec brought his focus onto the vampire, his eyes falling onto the pertained object in Simon's hands. It was a small, plain bottle, simple and ordinary enough so as not to distract anyone from its bright red content.

Recognition hit Alec as if it were a harsh blow, and it was only the vampire's lightning speed reflexes that saved his bed from barf.

**2**

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**TBC  
**


	3. Chapter 2 part 2

**Plot**: What if the vampire that killed Camille was an unknown character who isn't exactly in good terms with Magnus? What if he held a particular resentment for the warlock, hence the murder of his ex-girlfriend? And when the unknown character is found by Alec, who is physically exhausted and mentally vulnerable...

**Disclaimer**: The plot and characters of the Mortal Instruments series belong to Cassandra Clare. I own nothing.

**Warning**: slash, spoiler, alternative ending, inaccurate details, OOC

**Notes**: Part 2 of the 2nd chapter! :)

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**2**

Simon cringed inwardly. There were red specks coming out from Alec's mouth once in a while as he threw up in the bin that he was able to conjure with his vampire speed. In retrospect, the Nephilim was in a terrible state. When Simon caught a glimpse of the boy in the station, he had to resist the urge to grab his phone and dial one particular warlock's number. It was not Simon's area to, for a lack of better term, play nursemaid. Especially to someone with Alec's condition. But he was given strict orders by the young Lightwood, made him swore not to say a word to Magnus, and he didn't have the heart to break his word after the Nephilim practically begged and pleaded with him.

But Simon was out of his depth. Just watching Alec puke his guts out sent him in a frenzy.

"Why me? Why didn't you call Magnus?"

Simon hadn't realized that he blurted that out loud, until sharp, blue eyes turned accusingly at him. But Alec was suddenly distracted by a fit of coughing, and Simon wanted to hit his head on a wall when he realized that he hadn't even bothered to offer the sick boy a drink.

"Wait here," Simon muttered, and went off to get the boy a glass of water.

When he got back in his room, he froze by the doorway. In Alec's grip was the bottle that contained the haunting red liquid, and his eyes stared at it, seemingly mesmerized, with a disturbing hunger. With quick, nimble movement, he rushed to Alec's side and slapped rather harshly the bottle tipped into the Nephilim's lips without a care that it would land on the floor.

And make a mess and a crashing sound that, to Simon's opinion, sounded quite lovely and satisfying to his ears.

To his surprise, Alec seemed not to agree.

"No!"

Simon had to grip Alec's shoulders when the Nephilim propelled himself to the direction of the fallen shards. Simon did not dare deliberate on what the blue eyed boy would've done if not for his restraint.

Of course, it was in the young Lightwood's blood to resist and rebel.

"Alec, listen to me," he urged, as the Shadowhunter trashed against the vampire's hold. "That is vampire blood, obviously. But its scent tells me that it's the blood of an _Original_," Simon put an emphasis on the last word, which seemed to have caused some recognition or sense in the Nephilim's mind as the boy stilled instantly.

"It has the effects of any vampire blood in the human bloodstream," Simon continued. "But only to a superficial point. It will heal you and make you feel good. But a small dose can already lead to addiction and poisoning of your blood. _Death_."

He didn't know what to expect from Alec, but resignation was definitely not it.

"I know," Alec rasped out, his eyes watching the wasted liquid on the floor. In longing, if the vampire wasn't mistaken.

This confused Simon.

"Then why?"

_If you knew what it was, then why the hell did I just see you about to shove it down your throat?_

There was no immediate answer from the Shadowhunter. Simon took this opportunity to let go of the boy. All of a sudden, it was awkward and tense as the silence stretched on. Which brought up Simon's curiosity, if not confusion, as to why he was in this situation. Surely, he had already gone through thick and thin with the Shadowhunter, perhaps even enough to constitute a sense of brotherly arms. And there was no way he would let the Nephilim die in his hands, unless he wanted Isabelle, or worse Magnus, to have his head on a platter. But still, aren't there better candidates to see Alec back to his health? Particularly someone who knows what to do?

"I'm sorry it had to be you," Alec started, as if he knew where Simon's train of thoughts was going. "My family is busy with Jace, and Magnus..."

Then Alec turned quiet, solemn, and Simon had a bad feeling about what the Shadowhunter was about to say.

"Magnus and I broke up," Alec muttered.

Before Simon could think of how he should process that information in his brain, Alec decided to change the direction of the conversation.

"I was looking for Camille, " Alec blurted out, which took Simon by surprise. Whether from the fact that Alec was opening up or admitting to what he just said.

"Camille Belcourt?"

When Alec gave him a tired look, he let the boy continue without further disruptions.

"Camille Belcourt, yes. But I didn't find her. I..." All of a sudden, Alec looked even more sick, and pale if it were possible, and Simon wondered if he should conjure the bin once more. But Alec continued without any more pause, which Simon didn't mind since he seemed to have lost any ability to speak after hearing everything the Shadowhunter had to say.

"I found a different vampire instead. Well, actually he found me. He's an Original, which I found out later, and we fought. He seemed to know Magnus, which explained why he seemed to know me too. I guess this might also explain why he killed Camille."

Simon noticed that Alec's body began to tremble at this point and his voice quivered and softened to a point that Simon had to strain his ears.

"He got the upperhand, and I supposed he was about to kill me. But he thought better of it. He has a sadistic and cruel nature, I could tell. The type that would enjoy torture and pain. He brought out a dagger, it was antique he said. It was covered in blood. _Camille's_. He said he wanted to see how long I can last without making a sound..."

Simon felt like he already had the gist of what Alec was trying to say, and his stomach churned at the thought of having to hear more. But he let the Shadowhunter continue. Somehow, Simon sensed that the Nephilim had to get this out of this system, that he had to open up now or he never would.

"Of course, I didn't give him the satisfaction, and he said that only served to his amusement. But I knew it did nothing but annoy him. Which was why he wouldn't kill me. He fed me his blood as he explained the ramifications of the act. All the wounds disappeared just as he said they would. He had a clean slate. And he repeated the ordeal again and again and I thought that there was no end to it. But he stopped. And a sick part of myself wished he hadn't. _Death _was a better option."

A part of Simon truly believed that, while the rest of his mind was still in shock, still reeling from the onset of information.

"But he was too cruel for that. He would feed me his blood whenever I was about to lose consciousness. It felt countless. So I coudn't believe it when he stopped. I thought my mind was only playing with me, or that _he _was playing with me. He did that a lot of times, too. But he really did stop, and just left me there. But not after feeding me with his blood, just to make sure I wouldn't cheat and die. I guess one good thing came out of that ordeal. He swore not to tell Magnus so long as I can keep my mouth shut."

This part caused Simon to snap.

"Wait, what? No! Of course you have to tell Magnus! He has to know! He'd want to know!" the vampire practically shrieked, which he'd deny once the situation become less of a life or death matter. All he received was a blank stare from the Nephilim.

"If you don't tell Magnus, I will," the vampire threatened, to which the Shadowhunter only shook his head in denial.

"You swore not to tell a word to anyone, remember that."

"That's not fair. That was before I knew what I was getting into," Simon huffed, crossing his arms as he glared at the Nephilim. "Or before knowing what you got into..." he trailed off quietly.

"He can't know, Simon. He just can't," Alec responded without a moment's hesitation. His eyes pleaded as he looked Simon in the eye. They held a sort of helplessness and vulnerability that Simon knew he wouldn't have the heart to turn his back to.

Like any other Shadowhunter, Alec was the type of person to hold his chin up at any level of challenge or pain. To actually call for help, from him no less, must have taken up swallowing his whole pride and every fiber of his being, and just for that, Simon will entertain the Nephilim's demands, no matter how ridiculous, for the moment. And in fear that the Shadowhunter might shut himself off, and do something equally stupid, should Simon betray his trust.

"Fine," Simon gritted out, clearly unhappy about it. "But I don't see anything good coming out of this."

"Trust me, it's for the best."

_For who?_

**2**

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******TBC**


	4. Chapter 3

**Plot**: What if the vampire that killed Camille was an unknown character who isn't exactly in good terms with Magnus? What if he held a particular resentment for the warlock, hence the murder of his ex-girlfriend? And when the unknown character is found by Alec, who is physically exhausted and mentally vulnerable...

**Disclaimer**: The plot and characters of the Mortal Instruments series belong to Cassandra Clare. I own nothing.

**Warning**: slash, spoiler, alternative ending, inaccurate details, OC

**Notes**: I'm not really proud of this chapter. Which scares me, because this sets the momentum into a terrible direction, and that is something that I don't want to happen for the next chapter. So I might take awhile for that, since it's going to have the appearance, finally, of Magnus, and more details on the Original character. So that needs a lot of thinking and writing time.

This chapter might seem like a filler one, but it needs to be done. Also, just a reminder on the alternative ending thing. Whatever happens here wouldn't really comply with every detail in the book. Say, there is still the Sebastian problem in CoLS, that won't happen here.

So, without further ado, here's chapter 3!

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**3**

"You sure you'll manage?"

Parting ways had always been a matter of small words to Simon. He didn't find the need to stall and stretch time with meaningless words. Why prolong the inevitable? It was better to just get it over and done with. That would be the manly thing to do.

So when he spoke without thinking, and did exactly the thing with babbling-on when it comes to goodbyes, he had to hold back a scowl.

"Don't worry about me, Simon," Alec muttered, rubbing his hands together as the morning breeze made itself known. It was mere moments past the break of dawn, and Alec thought it best to head back to the Institute before the day truly began.

He put his hands instinctively in the front pockets of his sweater. Actually, it was Simon's. It wasn't really the Shadowhunter's style, but only for the fact that it was in a dull, faded green and not in one of his usual shades of grey. But it didn't really matter. Anything else is tons better than the bloodied tatters of what's left of his shirt from the day before. Alec told him that he'd have Isabelle return it to him, dry cleaned and all. On the other hand, the pants he had been wearing, thankfully, made it through the night, but not without some rips and stains. But it would be enough to get him through the walk home.

Simon had insisted that he wait for his mom to wake up so that she could just drive Alec to the Institute, but Alec wouldn't stand for it. He had already taken up too much time of the vampire, there was no need to impose on his mother's as well.

He was about to turn his back, and get on his way, but Simon apparently still has something to say.

"Look, Alec," Simon started, hands fidgeting, and eyes looking anywhere but at the Shadowhunter. "I know that the withdrawals will hurt a little-a lot, but it's better that way. If you start craving, tell someone-anyone-immediately. You're already on thin ice."

Alec didn't bother with a verbal response, which didn't really surprise Simon all that much. But he did give a quick, barely there nod at him, which was definitely more of the Shadowhunter's style, before turning his back completely and finally taking his leave.

Hopefully that meant everything would become better from there.

**3**

_"I shall make a deal with you, Alexander."_

The daunting words rang in Alec's mind, sending shivers down his spine. He'd blame them on the early morning weather, but the memories of last night kept coming back and repressing them got more difficult.

_"If you don't say a word, I won't. If you don't make a move, you know I won't. Do you understand?"_

He curled his fingers into fists, not caring if his nails bit into his palms. He needed to catch hold of himself. He needed to get back to reality. He couldn't let these flashbacks get to him.

He stopped in his tracks, knowing full well that he was only a corner away from home. Which was why he thought of his parents, then Jace and Isabelle. His mind wandered over the faces of the people he cared about, the ones he loved and sworn to protect. He tried to keep the list short, but somehow the list kept on extending. Eventually it lead him to one particular warlock.

Magnus.

_"You do know what an Original is capable of, do you not?"_

He shook his head rather harshly, as if that would clear his head of unwanted thoughts. Thoughts that hovered over terrible power in the hands of the wrong person.

_"Tsk, tsk. You do not have to hide your quivering from me, Alexander. It is only right that you fear me."_

It was a helpless situation. There was no way out without anyone getting hurt.

Alec knew that he would damn himself first before he let anyone he cared about land in the hands of the sadistic bastard.

_"Do we have a deal, then?"_

Alec was about to resume his pace, when all of a sudden he sensed a presence from behind. Without wasting a second to think, his feet swerved and his body followed with a swift, clockwise spin, ready to face the intruder. Somehow, he already knew what his mind expected to see, and part of him trembled at the thought. But to his surprise, relief, and wariness all mixed together, there was only the cold breeze of early morning to face.

He gave himself a second to assess the area before he put it down on paranoia.

The Shadowhunter relaxed his stance, but his mind was still on watch as he took a step in the direction of the Institute. With blood pumping faster with adrenaline, and senses heighted even more with caution and wariness, he almost jumped when the toe of his shoe hit something that instantly made a clancking sound against the pavement.

There on the ground was a fallen, but unbroken bottle filled with distinguishably bright red content.

**3**

"Alec! Where were you? Why weren't you answering your phone?"

When Alec reached the Institute, he wasn't really expecting any movement. He was expecting to be greeted by quiet and stillness. This wasn't really an hour to be awake and busy. Yet everyone, except Jace and Clary for obvious reasons, seemed to be up and about. His parents were minding a stack of papers by the table while Isabelle-well, the smell of something burning wafting in the air told him enough.

"What's going on?" he blurted out, ignoring the bombarding of questions from his mother. Which his mother didn't seem to mind, seeing as both his parents were preoccipied by paperwork at the moment.

It was Isabelle who filled him in, and handed him a plate of sandwich as she did.

"The Clave called for a meeting. And not just for a social call either. Which was why mom's frantic about you not answering any of our calls."

Alec glanced over at his mother, who seemed busy enough to make him think that he had only imagined her questions awhile ago. "Oh, really now."

"Yes, really," Isabelle answered with as much sarcasm. "Anyway, we can't seem to contact Magnus-"

Alec's mind seemed to have blanked out the minute the warlock's name was mentioned. And in such an offhand manner, too. Instead of the slow, careful way Alec let the warlock's name pass his thoughts.

"-and you seemed to have been out of reach as well. So, assuming that the two of you were together, where were you guys and what nasty reason do you have for not picking up?" Isabelle teased, the last part trailing off in a conspiratory note. Alec did not return the same enthusiasm, and the continued silence from her brother worried Isabelle.

"Alec?"

Eyeing his brother, Isabelle immediately caught on to the fact that something was not right with him.

"Alec, are you alright? Where have you been, really?"

Alec cringed inwardly. He had no doubt that his parents were eavesdropping on them, and that they didn't miss the concern in Isabelle's voice. When he thought he had streched the silence to a point he could no longer get away with, he took a deep breath and decided to just get it over with.

"Magnus and I broke up."

He tried his best to tune out Isabelle's cry of outrage, but, fortunately, he didn't have to put so much effort. Trust his mother to be professional and move on to more essential things.

"We're leaving in half an hour. Be prepared by then, Alec."

He nodded to the direction of his mother, before he turned for his room. Isabelle's voice was dimming, but it was still audible.

_"You're still gonna make Alec come with you?"_

_"I see no reason why he cannot."_

_"Mom! Magnus would be there!" _

**3**

It wasn't fair.

It was too soon.

He wasn't ready.

The door shut quietly, with nothing more than a quick click of the lock to disturb the silence in the air. His back fell against the door, and his legs gave up on him and he slid on the floor effortlessly; what a pile of mess he made. He stayed like that for some time, unmoving. Staring blankly into the darkness. Wishing it could swallow him and stop him from having to show his face to the world.

He didn't know what scared him more. To see Magnus, in such short notice, or for Magnus to see him, in such a state. But definitely, both were sources of great fear for the Shadowhunter.

Slowly, his hand reached for his pocket, knowing what he'd find and what he might just do. His fingers made contact with something cold and smooth. Glass. He pulled it out and put it in his line of vision.

"Alec?"

_Shit._

"We're about to leave. Are you ready?"

He had to grip the bottle hard or else it would've slipped from his hands.

"I'll be out in a second!" he called back, hoping his voice didn't seem anything out of the ordinary.

He waited until the footsteps of his mother have diminished completely. Without another thought, he removed the stopper with quick, nimble fingers and emptied the bottle in one swallow. He covered his mouth with his hand, making sure that the liquid won't find its way back out. Once he was sure that the blood had entered his throat, he let out a shaky breath.

It stung at first, but that was nothing to its effects in the long run. He knew it would be so much worse. But at the moment, it felt wonderful. Physically, for most part. All of a sudden, there was no pain. He was free to move as he pleased. He was himself again. He could function like normal. There was no longer worry of getting caught. No fear of giving anything away.

With only some hours after his break-up, at least he wouldn't be entirely helpless at the sight of his ex.

**3**

* * *

**TBC**


End file.
